Page 8 of Rescued By the Great Grim

I quickly release the trident with both hands. It clangs to the ground, but the echo of the voices is still in my mind. Now, they’re laughing at me and calling me a silly girl.

Looking around the area, I search for somewhere to stash this possessed artifact because I do not want to carry it any longer. I like my mind intact and without illusions of grandeur. Thank you very much.

Further up the trail, there’s a large granite outcropping. As I get closer, I see that it’s actually a pile of several large boulders. I climb on top of them, where years of fallen branches and other forest debris have filled in the cracks and formed a small fertile plateau on top of all that granite. Small pine trees grip the dirt with partially exposed roots, and I push the trident into one hollow created underneath them. It’s still wrapped in my jacket. I have no idea what to do with this possessed artifact, but just in case I have to find it again, I scratch a scraggly “H” into one boulder using a small rock.

By the time I continue walking on the trail, the sun sinks into the horizon, and the temperature immediately drops a million degrees as complete darkness envelopes me. If I’d brought my cell phone, I could use the flashlight app. But since I knew there’d be no signal, actually, there’s not even a signal at the resort, I left that handy little device in my room.

I have no wilderness survival skills, but even I know that stopping for the night in cold and soaked clothes is only a good idea if I have a source of heat. And since I don’t know how to make a fire without the aid of a lighter or matches, I continue trudging onward on what I hope is still the trail. My feet grow heavy, and as my teeth start to chatter, I worry about hypothermia.

I keep walking. My only goal is to stay in motion until the sun rises again and I can figure out how to get off this mountain. I’m fairly sure I’ve lost the trail because branches keep slapping me in the face and other parts of my body. They make me angry, and I shout at them out loud every time I get smacked by a new one. “Fuck you, Miriam,” I yell. “And fuck you, Johnny. You’re both the worst mentors ever.”

Anger gives into despair, and I have a little pity party for myself, crying for quite a while. But I keep walking, repeating, “One more step,” under my breath as my teeth chatter hard enough to break my enamel.

At some point, I enter the hypothermia phase of delirium because I imagine hearing voices and music in the forest. And what looks like a lighted window twinkles at me through the branches of what has become very dense woods. I’m definitely way off the trail by now. Branches slap me constantly, but I’ve run out of curse words.

And then I run into another granite boulder. Except this one is so warm, and it talks, so I do the only logical thing I can think of. I wrap my arms around it, rub my face into its smooth surface, and break down into a major, loud, ugly cry.

Strong arms hug me back and then a hand strokes my hair. A deep voice tells me everything is going to be okay and there’s no need to cry.

I take a deep breath as the last fizzle of energy leaves my body and everything fades to black.

CHAPTER 7 (NICKUR)

Iheard the lady stomping around in the woods and figured she was drunk, since she kept yelling at imaginary people. Although I called out to her several times, she didn’t answer. When she started crying, I headed out to see if I could help.

As soon as I touch her, I realize she’s hypothermic. Her body temperature is very low, and her teeth chatter so loudly, I’m amazed I didn’t hear that, as well as her shouting, from back at the cabin.

I try to ask her why she’s wandering around in the middle of the forest in wet clothes, but she keeps crying and wiping snot all over my shirt. Her obvious distress wakes something deep inside me, and I do my best to soothe her. Rubbing her back and stroking her hair seem to calm her so I do that and tell her everything will be alright.

“I’ll fix everything. I’ll take care of you,” I promise, not understanding how to do either. But she’s so distraught, I’d say anything to soothe her. In my heart, something clicks, some sort of vow that I really will do anything to make things better for her.

Her grip around my waist is so strong I take a while to break it in a way that doesn’t hurt her.

When I do, she shouts she wants her comfy, warm boulder back. And then she faints.

I lift her into my arms, and nothing has ever felt as right as holding this woman against my chest. My heart beats loudly as I carry her back to the cabin.

By the time we get there, she’s mumbling about evil spirits, and somebody called Johnny. If he’s her boyfriend, I’d like to know why he left her cold and wet in the middle of the night. She should break up with him. She should be with me instead.

Shaking my head at the weird thought, I enter the cabin and head for the bedroom. I’ve never reacted this way to a woman before. Maybe it has something to do with her magic. I can feel power surrounding her and it speaks to mine. Rae’s energy feels similar, but this is so much stronger. This woman must be a water creature of some sort, or maybe her power rules other water fae. That should make me cautious, but somehow I know she hasn’t spelled me. Something primal inside recognizes we belong together. Or maybe it’s just my damned curse playing another trick on me.

I lay the woman on my bed and try to be a gentleman, but she has to lose those wet clothes. Averting my eyes as much as I can while stripping them, I ignore the tempting glimpses of silky skin and rose-colored nipples. Ogling an unconscious woman is unforgivable, and I remind myself that she needs my help.

The T-shirt I dress her in swallows her whole and reaches halfway down her thighs. I cover her feet with wool socks and then put her to bed under several blankets. Her teeth stopchattering, but she keeps muttering about her velvet-covered warm boulder. When she mumbles it has gigantic hands and a nice voice, I figure out that I am the big fuzzy bolder.

With a smile, I stoke the fire in the pot-bellied stove and settle down in a chair to watch over her.

The next morning,her body temperature is higher, but she’s still not fully conscious. I coax her into taking some Tylenol to stave off fever. An infection when the immune system is compromised could mean disaster. For the first time, I’m glad that Rae gave me the emergency communication device. I eye it and consider texting her, but decide to wait and see a little longer. Rae lives a day’s drive away. I don’t want to her to make an unnecessary journey just because I’m panicked about how much I care about this woman, who is a stranger and shouldn’t cause this kind of response from me. It must be the curse finding another way of torturing me.

Throughout the day, in between doing the tasks on my list, I feed her broth and hot drinks and make her take more Tylenol. When she’s still not feverish by dinnertime, I take a big breath of relief. Hopefully, she’ll wake up soon.

I’ve just put away the dishes after my evening meal and when I turn around to find the most gorgeous hazel eyes watching me from the bed. My cabin is small enough to where you can see everything from everywhere, including straight into the bedroom. Messy raven-black hair frames her pale heart-shaped face and she’s so beautiful, all I can do is stare.

She clears her throat. “Who are you?” Looking around the room, she continues with, “Where am I?”

“I’m your warm velvet-covered boulder and this is my home.”

A frown mars her forehead and then understanding lights up her eyes. A blush crawls up her neck and colors her cheeks a pretty pink. “Oh, shit. That wasn’t a dream? I really went all hysterical and cry all over you?”

---